


You could be the death of me

by imaginesandideas



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Torture, Major Character Injury, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Content, possible heartbreak and a lot of bottled up feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24998167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginesandideas/pseuds/imaginesandideas
Summary: “I don’t want to live normally. I want you.” Words catch him off guard and he gazes down to meet your gleaming eyes.And if love really exists it’s there. With you. In depth of your obsidian pupils. In warmth of your embrace. In purity of your heart. Only he doesn’t know if he truly deserves it.His fingertips gently caress your cheek as he studies your face. A glimpse of fear crosses his features again.“What if I’ll have to go, leave you here and someone captures me. Or they capture you. What I if put you in danger.”“You’ll get me out of it. We’ll run away, hide from everyone.” You move to kneel between his legs. Your gentle hands underneath his chin force him to look into your eyes. “I can’t let you go.”“What if-“ The force of your lips crashing with his own gives him no other option but to obey, deepening it, grabbing you by your waist, pulling your whole body onto him. It’s just as frantic as all the other times yet even more full. As if fuelled by all of the unknown ahead of you and feelings you both tried so desperately to avoid, to bury it deep beneath what’s left unsaid.
Relationships: Warren Worthington III & Reader, Warren Worthington III/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Death of me

**Author's Note:**

> rewritten and corrected. originally posted on my tumblr (@imaginesandideas).  
> written as post-Apocalypse AU; Warren is still involved in some risky business.
> 
> this chapter was inspired by **[Death Of Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sC0xkQA38t4) by PVRIS**.

You wake up to cold shiver running down your body making you sit up in panic. Another nightmare but you can’t even recall it now, it’s all a blur, random images, lights and the feeling of cold causing goosebumps on your back.

Rubbing your eyes to regain clear vision you note that the window is still open hence the overwhelming cold.

What hour is it even? You can only assume it’s not necessarily long past midnight since it’s still dark outside, all street lamps must have been turned off most some time ago. Reluctantly you wrap yourself in a duvet and get off the bed to shut the source of temperature drop. In your your mind you thank yourself for purchasing that huge fluffy carpet so your warmed feet don’t need to be met with chilly floorboards.

It’s only as you turn the handle that you realise it’s raining. Leaning against the window you look up to the sky and just like you assumed you’re met with bright lightning. Your abrupt awakening makes much more sense now. It tears the shady density of clouds in two, leaving shining reminiscence in front of your eyes. It’s beautiful, like glass breaking under the force of the bolt, falling into pieces, only this time glass is the sky and it doesn’t fall down like it normally would. 

Rubbing your sides you decide to grab a drink before heading back to bed, suddenly overtaken by dryness of your throat. Sliding feet into slippers you drag your half-awake body to kitchen. It’s just as dark as the rest of the house so you switch on the lamp underneath the cabinets.

“ _Shit_.” You mutter to yourself scrunching up your nose. The lightning wasn’t enough to prepare your eyes for flash of the lamp. It takes you a moment to compose yourself and then you open cupboard to find a suitable cup.

While the water begins to boil you’re chewing on a leftover pancake. If you’re awake you might as well eat something before your stomach starts to protest. Pancake in one hand, kettle in the other you hear another loud rumble of the storm outside and a subtle shiver runs up your spine again. Shaking it off you pour generous amount of hot water into the cup and reach for a teabag when another noise occurs.

You furrow at the clock. It’s 2.14am so you brush it off as sounds of storm outside, probably blowing down leaves and twigs at windows. The knocking intensifies and you unsurely go to check who’s bothering you at this hour. Wrapping the blanket tighter around your body you inch closer to glance through the viewfinder. It’s dark outside but moonlight gives you a glimpse of familiar surroundings of your front yard. And a dark figure standing at your doorstep. A man. You were ready to back off and pretend that you’re asleep when you notice a pair of what seemed to be wings. _Very familiar wings_.

You swing the door open, your heart suddenly beating faster.

“ _Warren?_ ”

Pouring rain brings back the sensation of cold but you can’t even feel it, warmth spreading over your chest.

“ _C-come inside it’s raining!_ ” You step aside hurriedly motioning for him to come inside. The hallway is dark but you can clearly see that he’s soaked, water running down his face and steel feathers, his hair is completely drenched.

“ _You’re soaking! Let me get you a towel._ ” But he grabs your wrist first and pulls you to him. His jacket is wet under your fingertips but there’s some sort of indescribable warmth in his face that makes your heart stop for a brief moment.

“ _War-_ “

“ _Shhh._ ” He silences you and places a hand on your cheek reassuringly. “ _It’s okay. I’m fine._ ” His eyes travel between your eyes and lips, taking in all your details like he hasn’t seen you for a long time.

His lips are cool against your own and the kiss itself is so desperate it nearly takes your breath away. The raindrops fall on your cheeks from his forehead and wet strands of hair and you gasp into the kiss. His hands roam up your sides pulling you closer. You’re grasping at his shirt subliminally before you allow your fingers to move further, underneath the jacket he’s still wearing. Surprisingly it’s dry, only a bit damp at the front. You can feel pack of cigarettes in his front pocket and his muscles tensing under your touch. He tastes like lime, smoke, something sweet and also something so particularly his. Something you’ve learned to adore and yearn for. You can also recognise some metallic-like flavour, blood or so it seems and you pull back concerned. You can’t see each other but somehow he knows.

“ _It’s nothing._ ”

“ _Are you sure? I could just-_ “

“ ______, it’s fine._ ”

He shrugs but you can’t help the distressed sigh that leaves your lips. Your eyes dart over his chest and arms and wings, trying to examine any visible injuries though you soon realise it’s pointless in low lighting.

“ _Come dry yourself in the bathroom._ ” You speak up tentatively caressing his cheek. You want to say something more but there’s too much of unspoken tension and you know it’s too late for that. You both do.

The door to the bathroom closes and you return to your bedroom. Stopping at the feet of your bed you take a deep breath.

Moonlight is seeping onto the windowsill enlightening darkness. It must have stopped raining at some point but you can’t recall when. The sky was clear again somehow, storm pushed far, far away.

What a night.

> _**this love looks like a loaded gun** _
> 
> _**a noose around my neck or a sweet poison** _
> 
> _**if it gets in the wrong hands, then we’re fucked** _
> 
> _**‘cause heaven knows what you do to me** _
> 
> _**you could chain me up or set me free** _
> 
> _**and you could suffocate or let me breathe, yeah** _
> 
> _**baby, you could be the death of me** _

You wake up with sun lightly warming your face. It must be late because normally you don’t get so much sun in your room during mornings. You glance at where you know his arm rests on the pillow, unsuccessfully blocking his face from your view. You haven’t gotten a chance to take a closer look at him last night. After his unexpected arrival the soaked clothes were long forgotten, like your blanket discarded somewhere in the hallway.

Just like your shirt, underwear, all words you meant to say, all questions you wanted to ask. Skin to skin. Together. Again. A burning match.

You try to count how many times it’s been like this. Him knocking at your door without any notice, late at night, all bruised and needy. But you never ask. He only tells you as much as he wants and you don’t dig into it more. It doesn’t matter. Not when he’s here, at your side.

You almost forgot how beautiful he is in the sunlight. His golden locks are luminating in the light peeking through the curtains, cheeks are no longer flushed but you can clearly see tiniest of freckles gracing his nose and cheeks, something he wouldn’t allow you to notice if he was awake. Was he embarrassed of them or else, you couldn’t tell.

His lips are slightly parted and pink, reddish where he has cuts in the skin. The shading his curled position provides only accentuates sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones and the tattoos covering them. Yet somehow they blend in with the rest of his features perfectly. But the bruises… they were not meant to be there.

His left eye gives impression of being slightly swollen with purple shades around it. Also the cuts are new, both on his chin, cheek and one deep cut going through the brow. Some scars are older, some of them more familiar, some still have scabs on them.

It’s the moments like this one that you actually wonder how did he end up like this. What forced this constant run onto him. A run without a proper destination, without a safe place to always crash at.

Your eyes shift to his scratched arm. You notice slight flexing of the muscles and you know he’s probably dreaming. You can only hope it’s a good dream, though you guess it’s not likely given the state he was in when he appeared at your door last night. His wings tremble ever so slightly, bouncing the light and you fight the urge to rub his back soothingly to wake him up from whatever nightmare he’s having. But you hesitate.

You know he’s dangerous, his job - whatever it actually requires, is dangerous. Yet you’ve given him your bed, your warmth, a substitute of home. Calm after the storm. You can only wonder if he’s ever intended to stay, to trust you enough to make it work. _It_ , meaning whatever was between the two of you. You trusted him despite enormous fears that kept you awake long after he’d snuggle up to your side at night.

But is he indeed yours?

“ _You’re staring._ ” He stirs and it startles you. „ _What time is it?_ ”

You furrow your brows and reach for the alarm clock on your nightstand.

“ _34 minutes past 2pm._ ”

“ _Not so bad._ ”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“ _Yeah._ ” He shoots you a offering grin and both of you burst into a short lived laugh.

You’ve missed this. How he makes you laugh, how his arms drape around you pulling you close. How his breath tickles your neck before he leans in to suck on your skin. And the way he leaves soothing kisses along crimson marks that you’ll be reminiscing long after he’s gone.

You curl up to his side and he reciprocates by bringing you closer, his hand rests above your hip while your sheet-tangled leg swings over his thigh. You reach out to gently cup his face in your palm. The skin on his cheek feels different this time. It’s kind of rugged, like scratched up but not entirely. Images of his face hitting the pavement during one of many street fights he’s probably experienced flash in front of your eyes, but you won’t let them win.

“ _I missed you War._ ”

“ _I know, I missed you too doll. A lot._ ” He draws lazy patterns on your bare hip, eyes scanning over your skin. But his expression is piercingly sad. “ _I’m sorry I didn’t let you know…_ ”

“ _You’re here safe now, that’s what matters._ ” You promptly reach for his hand that rests against your hipbone. Slowly but firmly you bring your entwined hands up to place a soft kiss on the back of his hand. The strobe of light is peeking through the curtains and you watch him as his own eyes light up as they follow your motion. Purple shred above the eyelid is now more visible in the warm light. “ _We’re stuck together remember? Through good and bad._ ”

His smile gradually fades and it makes your heart sink in.

“ _I don’t want you to be stuck anywhere, not even with me._ ”

“ _War._ ”

“ _You deserve a better life._ ” His eyes visibly well up. “ _I ruin everything._ ” He abruptly sits up, breaking your fleeting physical bond apart. You don’t move when the sheets rustle and he grabs his pants and a pack of cigarettes from the floor before leaving the bedroom. You don’t run after him. There’s no point for that.

He can’t run away from you and you can’t run away from him. Because you never ask. Because he doesn’t need to explain himself every time. With anyone else it’d be endless fights, him packing and never coming back.

But you’re different. Because you just know.

Why he always kisses you like it’s the last time he will ever get to do it. Why when he’s around he makes sure to help you with everything you need. Why you only feel safe with him, and he only feels safe with you. Why he holds you so close you almost become one. Why he never leaves anything behind, as if he’s never existed. Why he disappears for weeks only to come back awash in blood. Miserable, maybe even broken. Lustfilled, like a monster, but maybe so are you.

Cause it’s a murderous kind of love, the one that tightens around your throat, takes your breath away, breaks your ribs and makes your heart stop. Leaves you panting and wrecked but you always crave more. You know it could kill both of you, but so would life without the other. And you’re both addicted, and you can’t let go.

> _**maybe I’m crazy, I know you’re danger** _
> 
> _**baby, you could be, you could be** _
> 
> _**I’m falling, fading, and seeing angels** _
> 
> _**baby, you could be the death of me** _

“ _I’m doing things I’m not proud of _____._ ” You turn your head on the pillow to look up at him, your book still in hand. He’s sitting on the bed, his wings leaning on bedframe like a shiny shield. It’s been almost 2 weeks of much needed, unbothered rest, catching breath and recovering. The second-best of a life together you couldn’t afford. Not yet.

His eyes are glued to the ceiling but you know he’s not actually paying attention to it. 

“ _And I wish I could stop it, but I can’t. I can’t just be myself and live like everyone else. Normal._ ”

You put the book down on the mattress and roll to his side, your arms wrapping gently around his midsection.

“ _I don’t want to live normally. I want you._ ” Words catch him off guard and he gazes down to meet your gleaming eyes.

And if love really exists it’s there. With you. In depth of your obsidian pupils. In warmth of your embrace. In purity of your heart. Only he doesn’t know if he truly deserves it.

His fingertips gently caress your cheek as he studies your face. A glimpse of fear crosses his features again.

“ _What if I’ll have to go, leave you here and someone captures me. Or they capture you. What I if put you in danger._ ”

“ _You’ll get me out of it. We’ll run away, hide from everyone._ ” You move to kneel between his legs. Your gentle hands underneath his chin force him to look into your eyes. “ _I can’t let you go._ ”

“ _What if-_ “ The force of your lips crashing with his own gives him no other option but to obey, deepening it, grabbing you by your waist, pulling your whole body onto him. It’s just as frantic as all the other times yet even more full. As if fuelled by all of the unknown ahead of you and feelings you both tried so desperately to avoid, to bury it deep beneath what’s left unsaid.

“ _What if I’m telling the truth._ ” You exhale after the two of you break apart to catch air in your lungs. You lean your forehead against his and his eyes close.

“ _What if I’m too weak to protect you._ ” He says, his bottom lip trembling before he peers up at you with glossy eyes.

“ _War-_ “

“ _I can’t let you go too. But I can’t let anyone harm you._ ”

“ _Then don’t. Lets protect each other, for once. Together._ ”

“ _For good and bad?_ ” You pull away a little and smile.

“ _Yes, Warren. Forever._ ”

> _**one man’s hell is another’s God** _
> 
> _**it’s all about perspective, a parallax** _
> 
> _**you’re a cold-blooded killer only after dark** _
> 
> _**but I don’t mind** _
> 
> _**'cause I’m a sucker, I’ll do 'bout anything** _
> 
> _**just to get those hands on me, yeah** _
> 
> _**keep me hanging on so desperately** _
> 
> _**baby, you could be the death of me** _

Nothing is really forever, or so they say. These few weeks together felt like forever, like nothing could tear you apart.

Slow mornings that tasted like freshly brewed coffee, butter melting softly on toasts, homemade jam and dragged kisses before you had to leave for work. Afternoons smelled like Warren’s curry, your favourite tea, candles and your old couch in the living room. Nights felt like dewy grass caressing your feet and the warmth of your entwined hands during late walks in the moonlight. Like books read out loud, his wings and arms stretching in the dark, cold breeze coming through your window to leave goosebumps on your bare, heaving bodies. His warmth. Home.

Now it almost smells like him.

“ _I’ll be back okay? I promise._ ”

“ _I know._ ” You whisper planting a small kiss on his jaw.

You’re standing in the doorway again, just like the first time he arrived at your door looking for help and a place to crash at. It’s all the same, but also different, things are different, you’re both different now. Once, by chance your paths have crossed and now you’re bound together, no matter what happens on the way. Because you’re a bullet to his gun, a gasoline to his fire. And one cannot live without the other. And as stupid as it may sound, you found your own true meaning with him, as though everything only started making sense when he came into your life.

Soulmates? You never actually believed that… but, maybe.

And yet again you can’t find the right words. So you both just stand there with locked eyes, trying to make them speak for you. Warren makes the first move and gently places a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips brush lightly against your cheekbone and you close your eyes to hold back tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.

“ _Please be careful._ ” He whispers and your eyes shot open. He’s visibly emotional and you cup his face in your hands.

“ _I promise._ ” Your fingers trace the scratches and lines on his cheeks like you’re trying to remember how they feel underneath your fingertips. “ _But you have to take care of yourself too alright?_ ”

“ _That’s your job love, I’m not gonna steal it from you._ ” You roll your eyes and he chuckles. Soon enough he captures your lips with his, and he does so ever so subtly, as if afraid that everything might break. The tears start to well up again and once you break apart you wipe them away with the back of your hand and look away. Both of you stand there awkwardly for a moment, bearing up to say something meaningful but none of you dare to break the brewing silence. In a way it’s comfortable, it’s soothing, comforting even. It won’t destroy anything, nor will it give you hope for something that cannot be arranged.

He glances at the small bag by the door containing whole handful of his belongings. Less is more as he says. But you know that way is just easier to escape, leaving what’s redundant behind. No tracks, no evidence that he’s ever existed.

“ _I- I should get going._ ”

“ _Yes, yes of course!_ ”

“ _Always lock the doors and keep the dagger I gave you in the nightstand, okay?_ ”

“ _Okay._ ” You’re forcing a smile. _Our bedroom_ you want to say, but you abstain instead coming to the door. It’s better like this.

Warren picks up the bag and you’re pretty sure he’s struggling to say something but words just don’t come out. Once more he pulls you to him to kiss you, but this time it rougher. His lips are moving in sync with yours, molding what was once separated into one ideal piece. Interconnected even when apart.

Both of you pour everything into that last kiss, as it really was a final one. Just in case.

“ _I love you._ ” You breathe out pulling away, emotion filled words escape your mouth faster than you could catch them. Now they’re out of your reach and he’s holding his breath, shock sparkling in his eyes. You know it wasn’t supposed to happen but deep down you hope that he feels the same way.

“ _I-I…_ ” Curls are bouncing on top of his head as he shakes it. “ _I’ll come back for you alright. Just- just be here, please._ ”

You simply nod, the corners of your lips raising ever so little. In a blink of an eye he’s behind the door, closing it behind him. Tears fill your eyes but you don’t want to let them flow.

So instead you continue going on with your life, as if nothing happened. Even if your heart is bleeding.

> _**cause heaven knows what you do to me, yeah** _
> 
> _**let you chain me up or set me free** _
> 
> _**you could suffocate or let me breathe** _
> 
> _**you could be the death of me** _


	2. Anyone else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry. I- I thought I’ve lost you.” You tremble with sobs. He sighs and rests his head atop of yours.
> 
> “It’s all my fault. _____ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, ever. I only messed up your life, I’m not worthy of your worrying, nobody should care about me love.”
> 
> “But I did. I do.”
> 
> You look up forcing your eyes to meet. He looks so broken with that expression on his face. Of course he’s blaming himself again, just like he always does before turning away from you and slamming the door shut. But those times were in the past, the situation is different now. The possibility of having to deal with the aftermaths of Warren’s side-activities was always so distant. Of course there was a risk, but one both of you could take. It was worth it. Even if Warren had some doubts about it.
> 
> But now? Was it still worth it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rewritten and corrected. originally posted on my tumblr (@imaginesandideas).  
> written as post-Apocalypse AU.
> 
> this chapter was inspired by **[Anyone Else](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4wo8VRCtSU) by PVRIS**.
> 
> this piece was from the beginning so dear to me, and will probably remain one of my most cherished fics.

It’s been months. Long, silence-filled months, weeks, days… nights. Life goes on and so do you, making each day worth the effort. Or trying to do so. Work, home, sleep deprived nights, some better ones some worse. Cold showers, cold food in your takeaway lunchbox, endless cups of tea and coffee. Normal life, right?

That’s what you always wanted - a normal, stable life. No disturbances, no worries, no risks.

That’s what everyone wants after all. It’s comfortable and you should be grateful that there’s no danger creeping behind your back, making you sit up with cold sweat dripping down your chest when you wake up after a nightmare in the middle of the night.

But nonetheless you can’t sleep. And the nightmares never left for good.

You’re suffocating in the walls of the bedroom you used to call yours. Your bed doesn’t feel like yours anymore either, the mattress and sheets are soaked with a smell you cannot get rid of no matter how hard you try to wash it off. With water, soap, tears.

It’s _him_. It’s always been him. And you can’t wash it off, maybe you don’t even want to.

> **oh my blood**
> 
> **once was mine**
> 
> **but in one touch**
> 
> **you made it yours**
> 
> **what have you done? what have you done?**

Your brain tells you to brush it off like another annoying fly in your line of sight. Like everything that’s ever bothered you. Cause it can’t be love, no, love is for the naive, the dreamers. It’s a lie and soul connection does not exist, and if it did you’d have felt it, both of you would. Warren obviously couldn’t have, you hadn’t heard a word from him for months. But the mere thought of him locked up somewhere, beaten up and bleeding out would still give you shivers. It would wake your heart and make you run miles just to get to him. Because you care too much. Too much to let go.

You’ve gotten used to freedom and everything that comes with no strings attached. Technically none of your friends or family members knew about him. Like he’s never actually existed.

Though sometimes you’d have those dreams - you falling from some sort of shore, passing and tearing clouds apart. And just when you are about to hit the rocks, something, someone picks you up. And you’re floating, above all the gruesome things, the pain, the unknown darkness. You know it could swallow you whole yet it didn’t, because you’re not alone in that dream. Your body aches, desperate to turn around, see if it’s him.

> **yeah, I know I went and left you all alone**
> 
> **please don’t think that I let you go**
> 
> **I’ll never let go**

And it feels right, like you belong to him, with him, yet you’re suffocating, skin darkens in bruising grasp.

“ _Stop dreaming._ ” Your favourite coworker speaks up nudging your shoulder, and you smile back at her politely. Just a stupid dream. _“You’re so off, are you okay?”_

“ _Yeah, yeah! Just got lost in thoughts.”_ You respond quickly, eager not to dig up the subject more.

_“If you need to vent though, I'm free whenever you need.”_

Soon enough she’s out of the sight and you groan loudly. It’s not her fault that you cannot get a word out. It’s nobody’s fault that you feel like you're stuck in a state of withdrawal, as if you lacked something essential for your wellbeing. It’s not even Warren’s fault and that scares and annoys you even more. 

Because how the hell are you supposed to live like this. Constantly agitated, touchy, on the verge of tearing down your own old life. And for what?

You throw your bag on the floor, kick off the shoes and drag your dull body down the hallway of your home and go straight to the couch. Face lands softly between the cushions and you sigh involuntarily. Another day goes by.

Your thoughts wander off again, enveloped in his smell. You wonder if he has ever left, if the material still can stealthy exude his cologne after so long. It feels like he never really did leave, at least so thinks your heart and mind as it displays sweet memories on the insides of your eyelids. Minor tears well up in your eyes and you fall asleep soon after, damn the cleaning you had planned after work, damn the dinner you should probably eat. Bedroom is too far away now, besides what difference would it make if every surface seems to give off his scent. You’re trapped anyway.

> **‘cause I could touch a hundred thousand souls**
> 
> **but none of them would ever feel like home**
> 
> **and no matter how far and wide I roam**
> 
> **you’re the only one I’ll ever know**

You stir awake with goosebumps on your back and sit up. The whole apartment is pitch black which makes your shoulders relax, you’re alone. As always.

You kick off the blanket and stand up to stretch. God forbid whoever allowed you to buy this damn uncomfortable couch, but who would have thought that you’d sleep on it one day. Times change. Only the pricking pain in your neck doesn’t plan on leaving you anytime soon. And that damn rug you woke up underneath. You can’t even recall when you brought it from your bedroom…

But then you hear the distant sound of light switch being turned on and you freeze. Something- _someone_ is in the other room. The light comes from the kitchen.

Panic runs over you and it takes you a moment to compose yourself and actually figure out what to do. Your bedroom is too far away, you wouldn’t even reach it without causing the intruder to notice. Creaky floorboards be damned you tiptoe to the coffetable. You reach for the most useful weapon - a heavy book in a hardback. It’s not the best option but the blade given to you by Warren is in the drawer by your bed. It would be too risky to go there now.

You sneak by the walls, exit the living room and move deeper into the halls of your home. The floor squeaks underneath your toes making you flinch. The light goes out and you shiver. It’s your chance and you can’t let it slip. There's shuffling of feet being dragged across the floor and it's getting louder. You aim with the book above your head, ready to strike the second their head leaves the room. There might be no second chance.

The shadow steps torwards the doorframe and you freeze mid-movement. He doesn’t realize it though.

_“It’s me! It’s me!”_

“ _Warren?”_ He comes closer and your vision goes blurry at an instant. All this time, all the tears and now he’s standing here in your hallway like the day he’s left you. So out of blue. “ _What the- What is going on?”_ You whisper-yell mindlessly putting the book down on the nearest flat surface. His breathing is ragged, seemingly thanks to you. But you know there’s more to that.

“ _I got in trouble okay? I couldn’t tell you, cause they would go looking for you.”_ He keeps his hands up in a defensive manner. You can only hope he doesn’t see how your whole body trembles with bottled up emotions. “ _I had to wait it out. I fucked up again. I couldn’t risk losing you.”_ The light touch of his hand on your cheek jolts you awake. It’s different this time. Like you’ve been dreaming for months and now it’s all real.

_“_____ I couldn’t let them hurt you.”_ Your heart seems to stop, and you swallow a loud sob.

You’re angry, mad, absolutely pissed. You want to push him away, tell him that you were dying to feel him again, that you were worried sick for months. That you thought that he lied to you, that he tricked you into thinking that you could really be something. Something important, exclusive, special. One of a kind. Tell him that you believed him all along, even when you cried yourself to sleep wondering if he’s warming someone elses’ bed right now. Tell him that love is such uncertain, cheesy thing but what a better way to describe what makes you feel both dead and alive when he’s around. That he takes your breath away and makes you feel hollow when he’s away. That he’s killing you, but even more when you can’t be with him. Because maybe he does love you. And you just know, because you’re one soul split into two.

But you don’t say it. You bury yourself in his embrace, his scent, his voice. Molten, _whole_ at last.

You don’t even feel control over your own movements when you kiss him, not even when he finally kisses you back, taking the air from your lungs, strength from your bones. Swallows your whole love like shadows of your room swallow your bodies, hurriedly discarding clothes, desperate to reconnect.

You scratch his back, just between his shoulder blades and he moans throwing his head back. His chest raises with a long intake of air and his wings spread. As if he didn’t really breathe until now, with you.

His hands are everywhere yet it’s not enough. He brushes the strand of hair from your face and stops.

“ _Baby, please don’t cry. I’m here._ ” He wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs only to give it up and envelope you in his arms again, with wings forming another protective layer around you. And it’s stupid, cause you almost got used to not having him, to the thought that he’s not coming back anytime soon. Yet for the first time in months you feel overwhelming safety, warmth.

“ _I’m sorry. I- I thought I’ve lost you.”_ You tremble with sobs. He sighs and rests his head atop of yours.

_“It’s all my fault. _____ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, ever. I only messed up your life, I’m not worthy of your worrying, nobody should care about me love.”_

_“But I did. **I do**.”_

You look up forcing your eyes to meet. He looks so broken with that expression on his face. Of course he’s blaming himself again, just like he always does before turning away from you and slamming the door shut. But those times were in the past, the situation is different now. The possibility of having to deal with the aftermaths of Warren’s side-activities was always so distant. Of course there was a risk, but one both of you could take. It was worth it. Even if Warren had some doubts about it.

But now? Was it still worth it?

He’s standing so close now and you notice a deep, half-healed cut on his cheek. Mindlessly you reach out to touch it and he flinches with a hiss.

“ _Let me clean this one, okay? Wait here for me._ ” You say softly brushing away your tears before reluctantly leaving the room. It was so thoughtless, so natural. You just hope he’ll still be there when you come back.

Hurriedly going through your bathroom cupboards you’re met with couple old band aids and a bottle of expired hydrogen peroxide. That’ll have to do before you’ll buy more tomorrow.

Suddenly it dawns to you how normally you’d have a full stock of sanitiser, cotton wool and bandages, just in case. In case that he was coming back.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and it makes you pause for a moment.

Who would have thought. Months of detachment, silence and here you are, as if nothing’s changed. Because despite all these changes and miles apart in every meaning of the word, you cannot let go. You don’t want to. You’re bound and none of you really fights it, because nobody forced you into this. You’re free, only tied. _Destined_ to be.

When you come back he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head hanging low and eyes glued to the floor.

Slowly you walk up to him and he looks up. Placing the items you’ve collected on the mattress, you give him a gentle reassuring smile. You expect him to be tense when you press the piece of cotton on the wound but he doesn’t even let out a sound. His eyes are constantly on you. Fixated on the way your lips curl in worry, or the way your brows furrow when you unpack the bandage, making the tiny wrinkles around your eyes and on the bridge of your nose darken. Your skin is glowing despite the searing darkness, only the moon is serving as a source of faint light and it does so ever so spectacularly. You curse under your breath and he snaps out of it.

“ _Let me help.”_ He rushes to help you with the sealed packaging you’ve been struggling with.

“ _No, no! I was supposed to help you, not the other way around!”_ Your hands are shaking, suddenly all of the stress and emotions leave your system and you cannot control anything. Not even the tone of your voice.

_“Love-”_

_“I can do it!”_

_“I know. Just-“_

_“I want to help you!”_

“ _You already did.”_ He almost shouts as he snaps you out of your nervous trance firmly trapping your hands in the grasp of his own. And just as your panic attack came, it goes away. With the gentlest kiss on each of your knuckles and warmth spreading underneath your ribs. With his arms bringing you closer.

“ _Let me hold you. Please.”_ You nod almost mindlessly, your fingers gently combing his tangled hair. You can’t help but think how you’ll need to run him a bath to clean all this mess. But not now.

Now he needs to rest. And so do you.

You settle with your head tucked underneath his chin and arms covering his own that rest around your waist. He’s laying on his side, his back facing door like he insisted. One wing slightly outstretched over your bodies. Protection.

It feels so normal, like he was never really gone. And when you jolt awake he’s still there.

_Home_ , at last.

> **oh, my poor bones**
> 
> **rearrange them to fit your mould**
> 
> **hang me up on your bedroom wall**
> 
> **now I can’t breathe at all**

He owns you. Entirely.

It’s getting through to you with each snap of his hips, each touch of his lips on your skin.

It’s impossibly early, too early for any of this. But it doesn’t bother you a tiniest bit when he wakes up shortly after you, moaning into your ear as his hands roam and grope eagerly. As if to make sure that it’s not a dream, that you’re not another drowsy projection in his head.

Maybe he can’t quite believe he made it home. Maybe neither of you can.

Maybe that’s why he goes down, lower, to your thighs, separating them, claiming you. His mouth follows suit, leaves a trail of profound yearning and build up want burning your skin. Everything inside you is like on fire, like your skin is the only barrier holding your body back from exploding.

And when he hoovers above you, you don’t try to escape his piercing gaze, no, you cannot escape him. You don’t want to.

He’s relentless, it’s almost as if you were wired, constantly shaking with shocks of electricity going down your spine.

It splits you in half yet seals back into one. It paralyses you for a brief moment until inner warmth, fuelled by his relentless thrusts, washes over your whole body. Almost numbingly and to the point of losing your consciousness. A blinding light that never goes out. Never because he’s inside you forever. Buried between your legs, underneath your ribs, flowing in your pumping veins. Everywhere.

And he’s glowing in every sense of the word. His skin is glistening in the dawning light. He is, in fact, the light in its rawest form. Filled with indescribable heat and fuelled by his own energy, as bright as the sun itself. Your beam of light in the darkness.

Blades spread behind his back in a state of bliss. But they’re not just cold pieces of metal anymore, no, they’re dipped in golden glow just like his tensed shoulders and frazzled hair. Like he was carved in bar of gold.

There’s heaviness in the air and it’s incomparable to anything else you’ve ever felt. It feels like you’re strangled, tied down with invisible rope. With his voice groaning into your ear, his arms searching your own to entwine your fingers, his hot breath on your neck, his pelvis snapping continuously into yours.

He could break you if he wanted to, but that’s not the case. He wants you to be in the moment, to look into his eyes when he cums inside you again and again, when he pulls you down with him to make you ride out your own high. To make you see the light so many times you forget about everything else in the world. To mash your bodies together, make you one. United in soul and flesh.

_“ **I love you.** ”_ He practically whispers peppering your thighs with soft kisses.

Your body is worn out and you don’t even bother to cover yourself. And you’re so overheated you might as well just soak up pleasant warmth of each other’s bodies.

The sky behind your window is slowly turning brighter. Distant chirping of birds can be heard if you only tried to listen.

_“_____? You awake?_ ” He speaks up again, only quieter, just in case you drifted off.

„ _No, I’m just… thinking.”_ You respond mindlessly playing with the curls on top of his head.

“ _What about?_ ” You look down at him.

_“You.”_

It still feels heavy on your chest, the thoughts and everything in between, but you can’t keep it inside. Not when he said it out loud. Maybe for the first time ever. Maybe for the first time he really meant it.

_“You know… when I said it, you know, before you have left, you hadn’t said a word. And all this time I was thinking that I scared you off. That you aren’t coming back because I said it.”_

_“That’s some proper bullshit.”_

Propped up on his elbows he eyes you indignantly with his brows forming a fine line.

_“Who told you that? Your deadbeat friends? The ones who care about you only on payday?”_

_“Warren, no, it’s not…”_

“ _It is! I know my money fucking stinks but I wouldn’t use you the way they claim I do. The way they do it.”_

He huffs and sits up on the edge of the bed. You follow suit and sit leaning your back on the headboard. Silence dawns upon you again and you wish you could at least open the window to let some fresh air in, release the mess. Even if it wouldn’t fix the cracks between the two of you.

“ _I don’t want to keep apologising, but I am very sorry and I know I might be considered a bad influence, but **I love you like I’ve never loved another person.** And I realised that running away from it won’t make things easier.”_ He looks up at you slyly, as if to make sure that you know he’s being sincere. _“And it was very dumb of me to think like that but I really fucking did. I thought I was hurting you more by staying.”_

You can’t help but crawl over to him as tears start blurring your vision all over again. But this time you have to hold them back. No more tears. Not when you were finally discussing the burden you were always being left with.

_“I don’t want to live without you Warren. And that’s on me, because I fell for you even when you told me it’s dangerous.”_

_“It’s on me too.”_

“ _On both of us, War.”_ You correct him shaking your head and move to cup his face. “ ** _I’m not a victim of this story. If anything you’ve saved me, brought me back to life._** ” And for once he truly reciprocates the smile you’re giving him. It’s gentle and his eyes are filled with worry nevertheless, but it’s there. _He’s_ there. And he doesn’t want to let go. Even if it kills him.

> **I don’t belong to anyone else**
> 
> **I don’t belong to anyone else**
> 
> **I know you only want me to yourself**
> 
> **but I don’t belong to anyone else**

_“_____ I can’t stay.”_ He says it in between agonisingly slow, soft kisses he keeps planting on the back of your neck as you stand by the kitchen counter. Breath gets caught in your throat for a second, but you can’t really be angry. Not when his touch is so comforting, so fucking apologetic.

_“Why?”_

You ask, but you should’ve seen that coming. That’s who he’s always been. A runaway.

_“It’s not safe. You’re not safe with me here, not now.”_

_“Warren-“_

_“Please trust me, this one more time. I can’t lose you.”_

You force him to loosen the embrace he trapped you in and turn around, facing him. And those sad ocean eyes.

You search for a sign of false talk but it’s not there. His chest trembles with each forcefully deep breath.

“ _They’re looking for you._ ” You figure and he nods. “ _And they can hurt you. Hurt us._ ” He nods again, but this time he lowers his head defeated. How could he possibly look you in the eyes now. After everything he’s promised you to be, to become, to _stay_.

Overwhelming bitter guilt runs down his throat and no swallowed tears could wash it away. Vulnerable. That’s how he feels.

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_

The dark wrinkle in the middle of his forehead deepens as he frowns. Words seem so damn cheap but what else does he have to lose.

“ _I thought that I could fight my way out of this one, but they threatened to hurt you. And I couldn’t just nod at that, you mean to me more than anything else in this world. I can’t- I feel like I condemned you with my bare presence in your life.”_

Your chest trembles with involuntary sobs, but no tears come out. It’s like your heart is about to implode, momentarily convulsing and shaking you whole in the last attempt to signalise the upcoming.

“ _I kept thinking - what if I never come back? Will you be safer then? Will they let go? Can I let go? And still, if I did go and they would hurt you, how would I know? How can I protect you?_ ” He sighs rubbing his bare arms comfortingly. The distance is unbearable for you, but you know he’s struggling for the sake of finally letting it all out. And he wants you to listen. “ _So, I just figured that whichever option I’ll choose, I need to see you first. Because it could be the last time.”_

_“And you chose to leave me for good?”_

_“I know how this sounds, but I really feel like I’ve made enough mess in your life. And I want you to be safe, so if it means that I have to go, then I will.”_

Tiles never felt so cold under your feet, but it’s not even the cold from open windows, or heating being turned off. It’s the fear, because deep down you don’t even know what to tell him.

You could beg him to stay, but what would it change. If he’s already decided then there was nothing you could do. Only stay, just the way he wanted you to.

You lean back on the counter and rub your face with both hands. Anything to buy yourself some time.

Mindlessly you glance away from him and through the window. It’s getting dark again. Somehow you always manage to have those conversations after sunset. Maybe it’s the comfort hidden behind those heavy, drawn curtains. Or the moon just feels less intimidating than all those bright clouds and sun. Maybe he trusts darkness more. And maybe you trust her too.

Hopefully it’s enough to make you say the words you’ve been keeping to yourself for much longer than you’d ever intended.

_“Take me with you.”_

_“W-what?”_

_“If you don’t want to lose me, just let me go with you.”_

“ _You can’t be serious right now.”_ His face softens in a glimpse of understanding. His first instinct was obviously shock that scrunched up his face, replacing guilt with worry. But he knows that you might just be right and there’s no way to hide it. He cannot hide from you anymore.

_“That- fuck. You have no idea how risky that would be.”_

“ _I do._ ” You respond boldly, but he’s pacing now, his hands alter between rubbing his jaw and neck. You’re pretty sure it’s all red by the time he stops, he’s so incredibly tense.

_“A-and what about the rest? Your home? Friends-“_

“ _You know how I feel about all this War. You know I would drop it all if you asked me to. I don’t need these walls, this life.”_ You pause for a moment. “ _Everything I have ever had was meaningful because of you. This wasn’t even a home before you. You are my home Warren, I don’t belong anywhere else.”_

And he stands there, so fragile he might break if you dare to say anything more.

How come you can get to him with just your words, sincerity some could say but it’s more than that. You’re there with every fibre of your body, your precious heart. And unlike him you never hide, not really. Neither from him, nor from the truth, the responsibilities. You might be unaware or a bit scared, but he’ll be there to push you through it, lead the way. Be your beacon of light.

Suddenly he comes up to you. You can tell he’s biting his bottom lip to prevent it from trembling. But his hands shake anyway and you feel it as he places one on your cheek.

_“It will be hard, and dangerous, and we’ll have to completely trust each other cause there will be no-one to help us. I can hide forever love, but not from you, and I promise to take care of you, no matter what happens on the way an-“_

It’s almost as if that whole anxiety filled balloon, swollen with countless doubts have finally bursted. And maybe so did your heart.

Your lips mash momentarily with the force of your body pressed to his. Back to the start, where it all began. The only way you could be - as one.

> **cause I could touch a hundred thousand souls**
> 
> **but none of them would ever feel like home**
> 
> **and no matter how far and wide I roam**
> 
> **you’re the only one I’ll ever know**

And that was it. All you needed were your most cherished belongings, couple books, photos, keepsakes, journal, comfortable clothes and everything necessary.

For the first time in months you felt secure. With your favourite bag filled to the brim, your old home further and further away. Walking hand in hand with your true home. His silver glossy eyes seemed happier than ever. And you didn’t think you’ll ever need anything else.

He looks so much calmer now you can barely recognize the look on his face. His wings stay folded behind his back, only sometimes you feel their coldness around your arms. Ever so protective.

“ _Thank you _____._ ” He says it so casually you barely notice it as he squeezes your hand in a reassuring manner. You chuckle.

“ _War, what for? I didn’t actually do anything._ ”

“ _You did._ ” His eyes focus on your own, keeping you pinned in place. And he smiles, with that soft, small smile of his. “ _You saved me. I would have given up, if not for you._ ”

And in that moment you truly knew, that in the end you don’t need anyone else, and that in fact, he’s the only place you could belong in. He’s your safe space. You belong to each other, as cliché as it might sound. And even if the world would eventually force you to run, you would. _Together._


End file.
